On the March

It's 9:30 a.m. and we're about to meet up with the son of a cousin I last saw when we were both in our teens. Chuck is a trained economist who has spent the last six or seven years teaching English in Korea. Currently, he's based in Incheon City, about half an hour outside Seoul.


Our first stop is at Dunkin' Donuts where Rob and I split a bagel and a breakfast sandwich. Then we're off to the Rodin exhibition at the National Art Gallery. Prior to this visit, all I knew of this artist was the sculpture of The Thinker, but his body of work is vast and varied. My favourites include two marbles pieces: Le Main De Dieu, a beautiful piece with God's hands creating life, and a nude, prone model of Andromeda. Another standout is two embracing nudes in a sort of dance called L'Eternel Printemps.


School is out, so the place is filled with kids of all ages. Little tykes of about three or four thoughtfully assess the displays. A group of eight to ten year old boys titter at the sight of a full nude male, until a serious minded security guard asks them to move along. As I analyze one sculpture, moving my arms to try to recreate the figure, I notice a press photographer snapping my picture. He follows me throughout the extensive exhibit and takes my photo many times before I'm through. Rob says it's because I have such animated expressions. I think it's because my tangerine tank top shows up well against the muted gray, green and lavender tones of the museum walls.


Around noon, we start the hike to Dongdae Moon, or East Gate, five kilometres away down the picturesque banks of the Cheonggye-cheon stream. It's a paved walkway with lots of lovely sitting areas. People lounge around under the overpasses, sitting on the steps, feeding pigeons and ducks, and watching the carp dart around. A little boy takes a swim. A grand-dad pushes his grandson in a stroller. This is a popular site, which must please South Korea's current leader. The former construction company boss spearheaded the initiative to clean up and beautify this walkway while he was still a minister. The walkway even features informative plaques about the history of the area.


We pass a group of people in wheelchairs, and a man in his 30s wearing a Tigger shirt calls out to me. I stop to visit, and he holds my hand as we try to chat. His friends are beside themselves, so happy to see him get this special attention. I feel humbled that such a small gesture has such an impact. I wish I knew more Korean so we could really converse. Our trio continues along the walk listening to the strains of that 1970s hit by Chuck Mangione, Feels So Good, which is playing on a sound system somewhere.


At Dongdae Moon we have a pork stirfry in a teensy tiny shop. The owner himself barbeques the meat outside the front door. Chuck tries to "do the Korean thing" and pick up the tab, but we up the Korean quotient by telling him he would "insult us" by even thinking of not letting us cover all expenses today. Afterward, we stop for a cool drink at a convenience shop and sit on plastic stools out front where we take in the show.


Women cook fish, people walk by with baskets on their heads, and motorcycles navigate the narrow laneways with impossibly tall and wide loads. They carry propane tanks, rolls of carpet, and boxes stacked several tiers high. The spirit of John Strecker runs through these bold delivery men who manage to tie down their loads with the same precision and skill my father used in tying down a load of hay.


From here, we walk to Kwang Jang Market, an extensive network of stalls under one giant roof. At the centre, women cook mung bean and vegetable pancakes, as oil splatters on hungry customers who salivate and wait their turns. We walk on to Tapgol, Seoul's first western style park, in every sense of the word. Entrepreneurial sex vendors patrol the area selling the latest toys and gadgets. Women wander through selling yogurt, which is code for yogurt and a sexual favour. For weeks we've seen products, like yogurt, sold in packs of four to six, but always with an extra container taped outside. It's called a "plus one" deal, and this Tapgol special certainly does ensure customers are getting bang for their buck.


Tapgol Park also features an important nod to the old world. It houses a massive glass case which protects the ten tier Wongyak-sa marble pagoda. This elaborate, detailed, masterpiece was built in 1466, so it's from the Joseon Dynasty, which existed from 1392 - 1910. Though Seoul was flattened by bombs during the Korean War, this marvel somehow survived, though no one is quite sure how. What is known is that many Koreans risked life and limb to ferry relics into the mountains for safe-keeping. While it's unfortunate so much of ancient Korea was lost to war, it's inspiring that this simple, brilliant plan is the reason some artifacts have been preserved.


The next stop is Insadong, the big touristy shops area not too far from our motel. It's expensive, clean, organized, and utterly lacking in old world charm. I'm sure tourists who like their travel neat, safe, and familiar, love it here.


On the main drag, Chuck directs us to an old friend's shop, and this warm and charming fellow offers us coffee, which in Korea means two sips of a sweet, creamy concoction. This guy clearly adores Chuck, and they chat at length about his daughter in America, and the high price of education. Before we leave, the man presents Chuck with gifts to give to his Canadian family, two spiritual passports. These gold, laminated, drawings are of the Bodhi Dharma, the starting point for all Zen (or, Seon, in Korea) traditions. If we carry these, we're ensured of a safe trip to nirvana.


This passport, in a sense symbolizes the day which has been filled with deep thoughts and discussions. Rarely do people, whether having just met, or having spent a great deal of time together, delve into those really big issues that define who we are as human beings. There must be a conjunction of the spheres, for we three naturally fall into these talks.


We take dinner at a shop kitty corner to our motel. We enjoy several thick, grainy, pork and vegetable pancakes, and since location is everything, they cost 7,000 won per plate as opposed to 4,000 at the less central Kwang Jang Market, just a couple of neighbourhoods over. We also pound back a 750 mililitre bottle of macgulli, which with a 7% alcohol content is comparable to, or lower, than most wines. Still, the effect is without compare. With two sips of this rocket fuel, I reach my limit.


We say our goodbyes around 8. It is now that we realize we've been walking for the better part of ten-a-half hours covering almost 15 kilometres! With temperatures upwards of 30 degrees, that's quite a feat. And speaking of feet, it's time to put these dawgs up and start planning for tomorrow's explorations!